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foursideharmony · 4 years

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The Cat, the Prince, and the Doorway to Imagination (Chapter 5)

Summary: Roman confronts the other Sides.

Pairings: Platonic/familial LAMP/CALM, Platonic/familial DLAMPR

Content Warnings: Violence and threats of violence, nightmare imagery

Word Count: 3,194

Read on AO3: here

“Won't be long now,” said Mr. Beaver as the group rounded a low hill. The sun was just starting to sink, and the resulting shadow made them all the colder. They had been on the move for nearly twenty hours, with only brief and infrequent rest stops, and had long since begun dragging their feet. Their trail made a continuous ragged line through the snow.

“I can't feel my anything,” Patton moaned.

“Well if nothing else,” said Mrs. Beaver, trudging alongside him and patting his hand, “they'll at least have decent campfires where we're going.”

Another twenty-five or so minutes brought them around the base of that hill and the next one, and then the Beavers led the group up the slope of a third and tallest hill. “And here we are,” said Mr. Beaver once they reached the summit. “The hill of the Stone Table.”

The hilltop was a broad space, clear of trees, with a grim gray construction in the very center: the Stone Table itself. It seemed like the whole snowscape of Narnia spread out before them, all the way to the twinkling ocean. It would have been a lovely view if not for the circumstances that had brought them there.

No one greeted them. They thought at first that no one was even there, but Virgil pointed to a hunched figure crouched on the ground some distance away from the table, tending the embers of a small fire by means of an awkwardly long poker held at full arm's length, as if she were afraid to go too near it. She was very slender, with lightly tanned skin and misty pale green hair that stuck out from her head in bristly locks, falling down to merge with her dress, which was the same color and texture.

“Ailim, is that you?” said Mr. Beaver.

“Oh!” said the woman, rising to her feet in one motion, more gracefully than any human could manage. “Beaver...I wasn't expecting you.”

“Ailim...where is everyone?”

She shook her head with a sound like leaves rustling in a breeze. “A few are nearby, keeping to cover. As for the rest...they are safe in their homes. Where else would they be? Aslan has not come after all. Of my people, only my conifer siblings and myself are even awake. The rest of our cousins still sleep.”

“Ailim is a dryad,” Mrs. Beaver explained. “That's the spirit of a tree. In her case, a fir tree.”

“And you must be the humans of the prophecy,” said Ailim. “Do you know why Aslan has not returned?”

“B-beats me, Miss,” Patton said, teeth chattering. “The story seems to have hopped off the rails at some point.”

“Oh, how rude of me not to notice how cold you are. Do come sit by the fire. She crouched to poke up the flames, and used an equally long-handled set of tongs to add another log. Soon it was crackling nicely, and the Sides were clustered around it, sitting on small boulders that had been cleared of snow and soaking up the warmth.

“It doesn't bother you?” Virgil said as Ailim fed the fire again. “Burning wood? I mean, if you're a tree too...”

“This was all fallen and dead already when it was gathered,” she explained. “No Narnian of good heart would ever cut down a living tree, or even take so much as a single branch. Sometimes an aged dryad who knows she will die soon will bequeath her wood to those who need it, but living trees are sacrosanct. Or,” she added sadly, “so it was before the White Witch came.”

“We'll figure something out,” Patton said. “I think…I think the Witch is hurting someone we care about too.”

“In the meantime,” Mr. Beaver cut in, “this lot needs food and rest.”

“Of course,” said the dryad. “There are shelters in the thickets on the southeastern slope, and provisions. Tap three times quickly and twice slowly on the large boulder and the fauns will let you inside.” She met each of their gazes in turn. “In the morning we must hold a council of war.”

*******************************************

At least Jadis's bed was comfortable enough.

Roman had found it eventually, after wandering the frozen castle for what felt like hours. It was only a broad, thick slab of ice on the floor, but it was heaped with enough blankets and furs that he was adequately shielded from the worst of the cold, both from the frigid air of the castle and the bed itself. He crawled in, his head still spinning, and wrapped himself in layers of bedding like a caterpillar forming its cocoon.

Sleep came quickly, but proper rest did not; Roman's dreams were full of ice and crystal and stone and snowflakes that came spinning down out of a black sky like tiny sawmill blades. Where they touched him he flinched and bled, and his blood was the pale turquoise of a glacial core. It whispered to him in sounds that were almost words and phrases in a language he only partially understood.

Perhaps he thrashed or cried out in his sleep, but if so, no one noticed or responded.

And with the coming of the dawn, Roman opened his eyes...and knew who he was. And what he was.

*******************************************

The war council never happened.

After their long trek, the Sides had just enough energy left to swallow a few mouthfuls of the stew the fauns had prepared and fall asleep on rough cots in a den of sorts excavated from the hillside. The Narnians hadn't the heart to disturb them, and they didn't wake until the sun was well over the horizon, and then only because a strange, piercing sound was blaring from outside the shelter, coming from some distance away. It was like a horn, but shriller, and it set their teeth on edge.

Bleary-eyed from stolen sleep, they bustled out to find their hosts interrupted in the act of preparing breakfast. “What's going on?” Patton yawned. “Is it time for the council meeting thingie?”

“We're not sure,” said one of the fauns, whose name escaped him. The peculiar sound continued at intervals of a few seconds, and seemed intended as a signal of some kind.

“Something is approaching!” came Ailim’s voice from the hilltop. “Let us all gather as a show of our numbers!”

“What numbers,” Virgil muttered, but he joined the other two, and the Beavers and fauns and other handful of Narnian citizens now emerging from their respective shelters, in hiking back up to the summit, where Ailim was waiting with another dryad, taller and wirier than herself. They got there just in time to see, bursting through the trees on the northern slope, a Dwarf they barely recognized as the White Witch’s driver. He was blowing on some kind of wind instrument that appeared to be made from silvery crystal—or perhaps ice—which was of course the sound they had all been hearing. Behind him, further downslope, there was some kind of commotion that wasn’t yet visible through the brush and piled snow.

“Narnians!” bellowed the Dwarf. “Make ready to receive your most exalted ruler, the White Warlock!”

“What?” Virgil growled.

“White Warlock?” said Patton. “No, it’s supposed to be the White Witch. A scary lady! I remember that part!”

“'Warlock' is a semi-archaic term for a male witch,” Logan observed.

“Guys, I have the worst feeling about this…” said Virgil.

More creatures were emerging from the trees on the hill slope, and it took the Sides a moment to realize that they were looking at a procession of monsters. First was a group of Goblin heralds carrying gonfalons that seemed to consist only of crosspieces crusted with masses of icicles. Then came a formation of Dwarf archers, and then several Ogres bearing clubs. Following this were a few Hags, hissing and pointing threateningly into the gathering.

(“What is this, the whole bloody entourage?” whispered Mr. Beaver. “Dear! Mind your language!” Mrs. Beaver retorted.)

As the procession reached the hilltop, it broke to its right, circling the space counterclockwise and fanning out along the other side of the Stone Table from the Sides and their allies, effectively corralling them—they could retreat, technically, but there was only one direction available; they would be easy pickings if they tried.

Finally, the White Warlock himself appeared, lounging in a fur-lined sedan chair on the shoulders of four massive Minotaurs. His crown glittered as he moved in and out of patches of shade and his robe was made entirely of ermine, with a train that trailed behind the chair for ten yards, held off the ground by a team of Yew-dryads, their short shaggy hair speckled with scarlet berries. The Minotaurs crested the hill, and one of them kicked snow over the smoldering campfire, extinguishing it. They eased the chair down, and the Warlock rose from his seat, stepped lightly to the ground, and turned to face them.

It was Roman...and he was wrong.

They knew what “evil Roman” was supposed to look like. The fans loved to imagine him, for some reason, and they tagged Thomas in their fanart of the concept often enough that the Sides were familiar with the consensus image: the haughty expression, the gaudy gold crown studded with rubies, and especially the transformation of his suit from pristine, heroic white to Disney Villain black.

It wasn't...it wasn't supposed to become even whiter. It wasn't supposed to gleam almost too bright to look at in the sunlight, so that even the ermine barely looked white by comparison. The gold braid wasn't supposed to be replaced with silver, nor the noble red of his sash with a dusky grayish mauve like dried rose petals under a veneer of frost. The crown was not supposed to be made of silvery ice, with only a single huge diamond set under the central point.

His hair was not supposed to be shot through with white strands that turned out, upon closer inspection, to be ornamentation of impossibly delicate ice filigree. His eyes were definitely not supposed to be gray, flecked with blue-green. And he was not supposed to be pale, but he was—paler than Virgil, if such a thing were possible, lacking even a cold-induced blush to his cheeks, yet without looking the least bit unhealthy. It was as if he had been molded out of ivory.

The only hint of warmth in his appearance was that diamond, which flashed all the colors of fire.

He was wrong.

“Hark! You are all guilty of high treason against the Crown!” he said without preamble, and his voice at least, if not the disdainful tone, was familiar. “Except you three,” he added with a curt nod at his fellow Sides. “However! We are in a lenient mood! Abandon your rebellion at once, and swear fealty to us, and you will not be punished...this time. As for you...” He addressed the Sides again, and for just a moment, his cold arrogance retreated, “...in exchange for your fealty, I will make you all lesser Kings in my court. Think of it! This glorious winter kingdom could belong to all of us!”

The Narnians shuffled on their feet, making no reply. The Sides traded glances, Logan frowning uncertainly and Virgil shaking his head with a haunted expression. Finally, Patton spoke.

“Roman...this isn't fun anymore, with you acting like this. This isn't how you said the story was going to go. Can we just...go home? We can talk out whatever's bothering you.”

It was shocking how quickly Roman's eyes hardened. “I will not be mocked,” he said, low and dangerous. “You have one day and night to change your minds...or else prepare for war. And these—” he made an expansive gesture at the creatures he had brought with him, “—are merely the outermost tip of my armies.” He returned to his sedan chair and the Minotaurs hoisted it up. The procession began to descend the hill.

“Down with the White Warlock!” blurted the taller Dryad, Ailim's companion. “Aslan is King!”

Roman's head whipped around to glare at her. Without a single word, he nodded to the nearest of the Hags, and she lunged at the Dryad, shrieking and making a throwing gesture. There was something like a flash of light in reverse—a flash of darkness—and the tall tree-spirit sank to the ground with a sigh.

“Muricata!” Ailim cried as one of the Ogres stepped forward and lifted the fallen nymph in one massive hand.

“Find her tree,” growled the White Warlock. “Cut it down while she watches.”

“No! Please!” Ailim begged. “She is my sister!”

“Take the other one as well. Let them both watch.” A second Ogre seized Ailim and began dragging her along while she screamed in terror and grief.

“Roman!” Patton gasped. “H-how could you?”

“Don't make me punish you as well!” Roman snarled. “Move out!”

The procession withdrew back down the hill, leaving the Narnians devastated and the Sides both bewildered and appalled. “So now what?” Virgil said, pacing erratically and pulling at his hair. “This is really bad, you guys. Super bad. We're not just talking rail-jumping here. Roman's taken a flying leap off...off something, I don't know, but there is something wrong with him. I thought maybe he was just throwing a surprise twist at us, but did you see him? That look in his eyes? This is so bad—”

“Virgil, you are spiraling,” said Logan. “Try one of your breathing exercises.”

“I don't understand,” said Patton. “Why would Roman go this far? Do you think he's mad at us for something?”

“It is possible,” said Logan. “He has undergone a number of upsetting occurrences recently, and his mood has not been the most stable. Then again, with his talk of 'swearing fealty'...perhaps he is simply craving validation.”

“Should we just give it to him then?” said Virgil. I mean if it's the fastest way to get him off the crazy train...”

“Unfortunately, I have to advise against indulging him in this,” said Logan. “While it may work in the short term to, as you say, 'get him off the crazy train'—which does not sound like a practical or enjoyable means of transportation, by the way—the likely long-term effect would be to encourage him to continue these destructive methods of addressing his self-esteem deficits.”

“Patton, you're the 'should' guy around here...what should we do?”

“I'm honestly thinking we should just leave. The best way to send a message that the game is no good, is to quit playing. He can grapple with his feelings as long as he needs to, and we'll be there for him when he's ready to come out and talk.”

“I would tend to agree,” said Logan, “but I doubt there is any way for us to leave the Imagination without Roman noticing, and in his current state he would be certain to take steps to stop us, possibly violently.” He began to pace rapidly, wearing a tamped-down groove in the snow. “However...perhaps one of us could make it back to the door undetected, leave, and come back with...additional resources.”

“What kind of 'additional resources' did you have in mind?” said Virgil.

“It occurs to me,” Logan said, still pacing, “that Roman is rather...comfortable, with the three of us. That may cause him to take our points of view for granted, which ironically makes him less likely to listen to us than to someone with whom he might experience more interpersonal friction.”

There was a beat while Virgil and Patton took that in. “Oh, no!” Virgil said after a moment. “If you're suggesting what I think you're suggesting, then...no. I can't agree with that.”

“Just so we're on the same page,” Patton said carefully, “you want to go get Janus? You think he could help?”

“I think his presence might shock Roman just enough to shake him out of his assumptions about how this story is meant to go,” Logan explained.

“You could be right,” said Patton. “Roman arranged all this because he hasn't felt much like a hero ever since we started including Janus in our discussions. But somehow he wound up going completely the other way, to being the villain. Maybe seeing Janus will remind him of what he's trying to avoid?”

“Okay, cool, so I'm outvoted. Coolcoolcoolcoolcoolcool. So which one of us should go?”

“I was planning on doing it myself,” said Logan. “It would not be fair to ask you to carry out a plan to which you object, and between myself and Patton, I believe I have a greater chance of making the trek without getting sidetracked or losing my nerve. No offense, Patton.”

“None taken. It's an awfully long way to go by yourself, though. Are you sure you even know the way?”

“I have an excellent head for navigation and I believe I can triangulate the location of the door based on our travels thus far. I would feel more confident if I had some form of transportation, however.”

“I can carry you, sir,” said a deep but young-sounding voice from among the Narnians. It was the largest of those gathered, a Talking Bear not quite full grown but undeniably burly and powerful. “Name of Stoutpaws, sir. I'm not as good as a Horse but I'll do my best.”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, Stoutpaws. My name is Logan. If we start now, I estimate you can get me to my destination before sundown.”

“You're leaving already?” Patton said, fretting.

“Roman has only given us until tomorrow, Patton. Given the round trip, I need to use every minute I can to make sure I bring Janus back here before the deadline.”

Patton strode up and pulled him into a hug. “You be careful.”

“Likewise,” said Logan.

“I'll guard him with my life, sir,” said Stoutpaws. He crouched on all fours so that Logan could climb onto his back and then loped away down the westward slope of the hill.

“Gosh, things are happening fast,” Patton said, watching them go. “It all started so simply.”

“Come on, Pat,” said Virgil with a lopsided smile that got nowhere near his eyes, “you should know by now that nothing in this mind of Thomas's is ever simple. And on that note...we should probably pull this bunch together and come up with some contingency plans, just in case Logan doesn't get back in time.”

“Yeah,” Patton agreed noncommittally. “And someone oughta buck them up. They just watched two of their own get dragged away by the bad guys to be...” He trailed off.

“Don't think about it too much,” Virgil said. “Just...yeah, don't think about it.” The gathering was breaking up, the Narnians returning dejected to their hillside shelters. Patton and Virgil joined them.

Unseen in the snow-dusted brush nearby, someone was watching...

#sanders sides #fanfiction #lamp/calm #Platonic LAMP/CALM #dlampr #platonic dlampr #narnia #sympathetic janus #sympathetic remus #villainous roman

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youarestellarverse · 3 years

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God there are so. many. things. I need to tweak.

A substantial portion of which are because I never learn my lesson about not showing numbers which is a problem because I like Jason am dyscalculic 😬

revisions for clarity:

get rid of all of the damn numbers that are not vitally important to the plot

fix contradictions across different fics

tweak throwaways that should, in retrospect, be significant

Things I still have to do on a housekeeping front:

post the f-list profiles

masterpost of fic links

masterpost of information that is actually relevant

maybe take the last (ultimately irrelevant) masterpost and make it a headcanons etc post?

answer comments (partially complete!!)

creatively:

cAST THE REST OF THE DAMN SHOWS

(I have thoughts but I'm saving some of them; I know who Annabeth, Rachel, Jason, Percy, Leo, Reyna and Michael Yew are playing, and Leo, Reyna and Annabeth I haven't yet ~disclosed~...I may leave some spoilery spaghetti-throwing under a cut)

get over myself and follow through on an idea I had for sharing art while being slightly less self-conscious

and yup.

Spoilery bits:

Annabeth (singing out of her range) is Mrs. Lovett, because she and Jason have excellent chemistry.

Percy is Anthony.

Rachel is Johanna.

Leo is Toby.

Reyna is Pirelli.

I don't know who's playing the beggar woman (Piper may be the only mezzo left?), I'm not sure who's playing Beadle Bamford, I'm not 100% sure on who the ballad ghosts are— though Clarisse is one of them.

I also have Beauty and the Beast:

Piper as Belle

Jason as the Beast

Annabeth as the Witch

Percy might be Lumiere, but I feel like Leo would also excel, so I'm undecided.

I made Michael Yew a basso profondo, which limits his roles— though I'm fairly certain he plays Gaston.

Reyna is Mrs. Potts.

Rachel is Madame de la Grande Bouche.

The Apollo kids fill in the leads I can't figure out how to fill. Still missing Le Fou and Cogsworth.

And The Scarlet Pimpernel:

Percy as Percy Blakeney (he specifies in his bio that his name is Perseus, not Percival)

Piper as Marguerite St. Just

Jason as Citizen Chauvelin

Potentially Leo as Armand St. Just, since he and Percy are the tenors at that moment (freshman year; they both mature into baritones)

And Into the Woods, which I've shared the cast on already (but revised slightly):

Jason and Percy as the Princes

Piper as The Baker's Wife

Leo as Jack

Hazel as Little Red

I still reeeeeally want Reyna as The Baker but Frank could pull it off too, I think

Rachel as Cinderella

Annabeth was originally Cinderella's Mother, but I think I might want her for Rapunzel

I don't have a Witch, Narrator, whichever soprano Annabeth ends up not playing, or like, any of the ensemble

I don't have a Spring Musical for Sophomore, Junior, or Senior years, but I have two Freshman shows that must be in Freshman year because of the timeline (Piper and Jason actually have very good chemistry until they start dating halfway through the run of the Freshman Spring Musical, which is Pimpernel, and Thalia vows to NEVER EVER CAST COUPLES AS COUPLES EVER AGAIN EVER)

And of course lastly, we have Les Mis:

Nico as Jean Valjean

Reyna as Javert

Piper as Fantine

Percy as Enjolras

Frank as Marius

Leo as Courfreyrac

Clarisse as Feuilly

Jason as Grantaire/The Bishop of Digne

possibly Beckendorf as Combferre

Cosette may be either Rachel or Annabeth, but

I kinda want Rachel for Madame Thenardier, on the basis of being fucking hilarious

Harley as Little Gavroche

Hazel as Eponine (because a. everyone in the world would bawl their eyes out over A Little Fall Of Rain with Frank and b. she can practice at home and Nico can stew himself into chowder over how much it hurts— "he was never mine to lose; why regret what could not be? These are words he'll never say; not to me, not to me, not to me.")

No idea who's playing Thenardier or Young Cosette.

And that's not even fucking getting into the Shakespeare and the other non-musicals, such as The Importance Of Being Earnest

Jason as Jack

Percy as Algernon

Piper as Gwendolyn and Annabeth as Cecily, or the other way around— depending on whether they do the show before or after Piper starts dating Jason. (I like the idea of Annabeth usually playing ingenues because of the thing where she deliberately attempts to make people think she's a dumb blonde so they let their guard down, so I'm leaning towards the before.)

Plus Much Ado About Nothing, which I haven't cast at all, and A Midsummer Night's Dream, which I have cast but again it doesn't fit the damn timeline:

Annabeth as Titania

Reyna as Oberon

Percy as Bottom

Leo as Puck

Piper as Helena

Jason as Demetrius

Hazel as Hermia

Frank as Lysander

And Romeo and Juliet:

Frank as Romeo

Hazel as Juliet

Percy as Mercutio

Jason as Benvolio

Annabeth as Lady Capulet

And then I just have a bunch of holes.

Ideally, I wanted two musicals and two straight plays per year— one Shakespeare and one not-Shakespeare— but I don't even know if that's possible anymore lmao 🙃

This for the record is one of the things that is tripping me up lmao.

#behind the scenes #spaghetti throwing #the creative process

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bluerosesburnblue · 6 years

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Liz Liveblogs Bravely Second: Chapter Two

And we’re back, baby! Finally back with the second chapter of Bravely Second: What’s Past is Prologue

Buckle up, pals. This one’s a long one. Lots of ranting about sidequests and one amazing reveal

Warning that I start cussing more than usual around the mid-chapter reveal, should anyone care about language

Geez, yeah, Yew actually got shot last chapter. Glad to see that he’s alright

He’s also still upset about what Janne said. Turns out Janne had a point: Yew only did what he did because it was his duty as part of House Geneolgia and the Crystalguard. He doesn’t think any of his life has been his own choice

The rest of the team disagrees. Duty dictates that Janne should be executed as a traitor, but Yew consistently keeps trying to reason with him out of compassion

Edea’s giving a speech about how the Crystalguard’s actions may have been black, but the organization as a whole may have been a lighter shade of grey or white with a black mark on it. Coming from last game’s foremost “black-and-white morality” thinker, that just goes to show how much Edea grew during Bravely Default, especially since she’s no longer painting entire organizations as a single color, but noting that they’re a mixture of both good and bad people

Agnès is crying and now Tiz is SUPER pissed that they may have hurt her. Turns out it’s just the smoke irritating her eyes and making it hard to breathe

So... to Eisen? We’re gonna need a bigger boat!

Edea and Magnolia talking in their sleep is keeping Yew up at night. I feel ya, buddy. Edea’s snoring is grating as anything

Oh god Yew’s getting accosted by a mysterious voice with a music box backing track. Run!

“I... haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about” neither do I, Yew. You wanted a boat and this voice went on a tirade about cabbage

Voice’s advice is use your rowboat and go through a whirlpool that MIGHT go away. That’s TERRIBLE advice. Just rent a boat! We have SO MUCH money thanks to my level grinding

Guess the whirlpool IS gone. Still

*Insert months long break for college* At least this liveblog lets me know where the hell I am in the plot

The boat ride to Eisen is super long even with encounters turned off. Who thought the canoes on shallow waters only idea was good?

Oh! OH! Fox girl! She’s the one with the Yōkai job that I heard was super broken oh please let me get the demonic summons (unavailable until Chapter 6. Aw)

Ah, she’s the princess of Yunohana and is looking for her missing brother. And she’s joining us temporarily! Normally I’d be excited because she seems cool, but RPG experience has taught me that most of these situations end in betrayal, so now I’m suspicious (especially since the Yōkai asterisk involves summoning demons)

Princess Yōko is flirting HARD with Yew and Magnolia is so offended (older siblings Tiz and Edea are giving the most backhanded compliments right now)

Commander Goodman is back at Eisen Bridge! Good to see some old faces again, even if it’s under less than ideal circumstances

How good of a shot is Aimee that the entire Eisenberg army is at her mercy?

“Yew Googlymoogly and his three yutzes” is the new party name. It’s taken “ Agnès’s Avengers,” put it in a stranglehold, and had it beg for mercy it’s so strong

Giving the cowgirl a Boston accent is bizarre to experience

God she is just smitten with the Patissier boy, huh?

Magnolia just saved Yew, but Aimee... psychically moved the bullet to hit Goodman when it missed? Guess that explains the cross-continental shot

“The wound is deep” the man was wearing full plate armor. At that point it’s more blunt force impact damage than a bullet wound

The Hartschild festival looks great! I still love the graphical upgrades in this game over Default’s. The town looks gorgeous

How on earth DID we carry Commander Goodman to his home half a continent away?

Patissier boy is funding all of Hartsfest. He’s also absurdly tall like what

Aw, Yew and Magnolia are on a goldfish scooping date. Edea ships it so hard it hurts

Yew got flowers for Yōko and Magnolia, but I sense some cultural confusion happening on Magnolia’s end

Yeah, Magnolia thought that giving a flower was a marriage proposal because that’s what it is on the moon and now she’s crushed because she legitimately thought Yew was her maybe-fiance

DAMN YŌKO. HARSH. MAGNOLIA JUST RAN OFF CRYING

That was some mood whiplash. We just went from a heartbroken Magnolia to HEY GOODMAN’S DOING FINE YAAAAAAAY

Eleanor’s missing and the culprit is probably Patissier Angelo, using his cupcakes to mind control the town because duh. What else would Aimee’s boyfriend do?

Oh for fuck’s sake. Voice is writing in Yew’s journal and he’s soliloquizing about ONIONS now

He knows French. Potential moon person?

Yōko’s brother is here and he’s not a fox boy. Shame. Though the sibling matching clothes are cute

Danzaburō’s hair kinda looks like the Kaiser’s, but it’s hard to tell under the hat. He doesn’t sound like Kaiser, though, so it’s probably just coincidence

So a samurai’s gonna help us fight a sniper. Rad

It’s been so long I forgot about warp pig. How could I forget warp pig?

Ughhhhh the inn’s out of commission. Damn, that makes journal grinding so much harder. Ugh. Okay. Better solve the Hartschild disappearances first

This sidequest is starting with a grandpa and granddaughter moving into the old boat shack. I’m certain this will end in failure

YEAH THERE’S PROFITEUR’S FAKE MOON PERSON ACCENT

And HOLLY. Because you two were just my FAVORITES in Default

Actually, I already spoiled this one skimming through the TVTropes page, so reminding everyone that I am actively making the this The Worst Timeline: we’re siding with Holly. Probably for the best, as I technically already have a healing job

Does this grandfather... have a face? He looks like a yeti. It’s just all hair

So what I got is that Profiteur wanted to buy the sea shack from the family, probably to fix it up and flip it for commercial use. Which was fine because it had been abandoned for years, but the family suddenly came back. And Holly was just here... and against it for some reason

??? Does the sidequest not continue until you’ve solved the Hartschild problem or am I just missing something?

Man, Yōko ADORES her brother. Yew is sighing and musing about how nice that relationship is. Jealous?

Danzaburō’s plan is for the party to use the aqueduct to go under the bridge and sneak up on Aimee from behind while he distracts her. Not a bad plan at all

Damn. He just sliced a bullet in half in midair. Woah

And Hartschild’s fine now? Ooooor it’s only active at night? Is this a town of vampires now? Is that why there’s a “play with dog until dusk” option?

Profiteur wants the inlet to turn it into a trade port. “Old Codger” objects because the inlet is pretty. And Holly is projecting her own childhood sadness onto that girl and that’s why she’s intervening

So unlike the impression I got in Defualt... Profiteur is actually a decent businessman? He was scoping out Eisen Bridge, too

Profiteur does make a decent point. The party’s been mostly listening to old, retired men who aren’t directly effected by the changes, they’re just against the idea of change in general. Ask the young folk currently in the workforce and they’ll want to try anything to make things better. Nostalgic emotions vs practical problem solving

And another good point! They can’t ship things through Eisen Bridge due to the fighting, but the Empire doesn’t have a hold on ocean trade. Siding with Holly really is the worse choice here. That little girl being sad about moving is a worthy price to pay for improving the lives of all Eisenberg citizens

Aaaaaand the little girl’s missing. She left to try and get a job so they can keep the house. Children are bad at big-picture thinking

Oh good she’s in the Mythril Mine. That never went poorly for any child, ever

Damn, Profiteur came to help the kid? I’m liking him more the longer I do this quest

Holly, I don’t need your whole dang life story about how your grandfather worked so hard he ended up neglecting you. It’s sad, but you’re gonna subject a lot more kids to that if you keep harping on this one girl

Holly, it’s not like Profiteur hired the miners. They were working there on their own. Because the economy is bad. This ain’t his fault. He’s trying to fix this exact problem

“Is this the cost of rebuilding a nation?” Did you listen to a thing he’s said? He’s trying to open up trade ports so that they DON’T have to rely on the mine!

Is it obvious that I have little patience for characters who think emotional gratification gives them moral superiority yet? Or characters who prioritize it over actually solving the damn problem?

“It may not be feasts and finery, but isn’t it better just to live together, as long and as happily as you can?” WHO SAID ANYTHING ABOUT FINERY. These people are scrounging to EAT, Holly. They ain’t gonna be LIVING for long if they don’t get the money to buy food and shelter you useless high school economics flunkie

Sorry game. One sad girl and her grandad do not outweigh the needs of a nation. But I’m siding with them anyway, because Worst Timeline

“There’s something wrong with driving a family out of their home for the sake of a country!” NO EDEA THERE REALLY ISN’T. JUST BECAUSE SOMETHING MAKES YOU SAD OR UPSET DOESN’T MEAN IT’S WRONG. YOUR EMOTIONS ARE NOT A MORAL SCALE

“What is zis sentimental nonsense you fools are spouting!?” THANK YOU PROFITEUR FINALLY SOMEONE WITH LOGIC AND SENSE

I don’t know if I ever mentioned it, but I appreciate that the game gives you a summary of the two potential sidequest jobs before you make the choice, as well as warning you that you only get one. It’s nice, clear, and considerate

“It seems you’re having trouble understanding simple economic theory” is the theme of this sidequest

I don’t see why they had to give Profiteur generic villain quotes when you fight him. He was doing so well this sidequest

I don’t think I’ve ever seriously used the Merchant class and I doubt I will now

I don’t want your approval, Holly

AND THE PAYOFF WAS THE KNOWLEDGE THAT BARRAS WANTS TO SETTLE DOWN AND OPEN A CLINIC WITH HOLLY this was not worth it

At least Profiteur’s bestiary entry has Magnolia comment on his accent, even if it’s more tongue-in-cheek “wow he sounds dumb who would talk like that” than “...was he secretly from the moon, too?”

I don’t think I noticed before, but if you Brave multiple spells together it seems to merge them into one animation and that’s cool. Not sure if that’s something related to Yew being a Bishop or Magnolia being a Wizard, since it only seems to do that for Yew

This is the most lava-riddled sewer I’ve ever seen in my life

*gasp* Ancient ninja artifacts have been found in the sewers! Clearly Konoe Kikyo must have been here (and since she’s on my sidequest list for this chapter, I imagine she’s nearby)

I’m so overleveled for every dungeon. The joys and pains of bestiary completion

Why are there so many dragon men in these sewers?

Oh no! Yōko’s been shot trying to protect her brother! Time to conveniently exit the sewers with dramatic timing an end this

Is Aimee’s guncleaver just the next step up from gunblade?

Yew, that was the saddest cheer I’ve ever heard. Good to know Aimee still ships Yew/Magnolia, though

I’ve accidentally made Edea a physical attacking monster. I think she just took out half of Aimee’s health singlehandedly

And the gunslinger goes out apologizing to the Patissier boyfriend. A lot of dying apologies in this game

Gotta get Tiz up to Level 8 Catmancer before fighting her boyfriend. I want 100% completion and there’s a skill in that fight

Yōko’s giving a dramatic death speech and then Danzaburō cuts in with “she’s fine we’re taking her to a hot spring to relax.” Already loving the sibling dynamic

...I just noticed that her fox ears were actually a bow. The small details in this series are incredible

Aw, that’s cute. Magnolia wants to travel the world and eat every food she can because they’re all so different from moon food and from dishes in other regions

Edea’s all for it. Of course

And we’ve just crossed the border from medieval Europe into feudal Japan. Eisenberg is weird, but the music here is great

Aw. Danzaburō is carrying Yōko. What a good big brother

I now present to you: A Generic Anime Hot Springs Episode in a Medieval Fantasy

Oh I’m so glad Danzaburō’s hanging out in the hot spring with Yew and Tiz. And that he wore his hat in

Yew please. We all know Danzaburō has great pecs. They ain’t even submerged

Girls come on. You JUST gave the guys a talking to about peeping. Don’t you three go turning it around on them like that. Guys have a right to privacy, too

Does Danzaburō have a chinstrap beard or is that the actual chinstrap of his hat?

“We should peek back” “If you peek on my sister I will murder you without hesitation” This is exactly what I expected

Ah, Yōko’s asking Yew about a Sword of the Brave. MacGuffin senses tingling

Awww. She wants it because her father won’t let Danzaburō take the throne until he returns with it, since he’s not the emperor’s son by blood. An impossible task, and I suspect that the emperor doesn’t want Danzaburō to succeed

And Yew knows more about the sword than he’s telling, so I’m sensing a tragic sword-related backstory

Oh, damn. Yōko went after the sword on her own, didn’t she? Great

And another sidequest. Sorry Yōko, you’re gonna have to wait a bit

Aw great we’ve injured a delivery man. Nice going Edea

Ominas Party... Guess Black Mage is coming up. And they hired Artemia. It’s a safe bet we’re doing Ominas vs. Artemia this quest

It looks like 1/4 of all undead in the game are in Grapp Keep. What the hell happened there?

Earthquake happens and everyone falls unconscious + stairs are out of commission? At least we have food

Seems like the conflict is going to be Ominas wants the food for himself, and Artemia wants to ration it

Jambalay, Risotto, and Paella? Ominas, dude, you guys are screwed. When your hired help is named after food during a food shortage you know things have gone bad

So the moral conflict is mutiny with Artemia so no one starves or side with Ominas because he’s funding it and nominally in charge. Guess I’m siding with Ominas for Worst Timeline reasons

I don’t mind it for gameplay reasons, though. I like Ranger. It was one of the jobs I used most in BD and I already have a spellcasting job in Wizard

...that Currently Alive status screen was more worrying than necessary

Ah, so the conflict is a little deeper that I thought. Ominas is training his d’gon to smash the rubble out of the way, and I imagine he’s gonna want the food to keep Bahamut’s health up. So do we get out faster by prioritizing Bahamut, or do we wait for the search party while keeping everyone alive?

Ominas is still an ass, though. So I’ll have to side with him regardless

Oh. He wants Bahamut to learn Femto Flare to kill the Ba’als. I know the game isn’t gonna go this route, but I’d love it if I could side with Ominas and learn Femto Flare, and then loop and side with Artemia, but still teach Bahamut Femto Flare after we’re out of threat of starvation

I also have the benefit of meta knowledge. We have to make it out alive so there’s no real threat of at least the party dying. Similarly, I doubt Bahamut is gonna solo the final boss for us, so learning Femto Flare will be useless in the long run. Artemia’s solution ensures that the NPCs survive to be rescued, while Ominas’s only ensures Bahamut’s survival and little gain for our future because the game has to have Boss Fights for us. Also, assume someone never did the sidequest. No Bahamut either way

Worst Timeline prerogative sometimes makes this game hard to get through. It’s better to get it over with now, but still. I really like Artemia and I so want to side with her, but time to give Ominas’s baby dragon the rest of the food

Wow we tied Artemia up? Seems a little much

This actually ended pretty well. Ominas managed to teach Bahamut Femto Flare early and everyone made it out alive. Artemia ain’t even mad. ...did I fail to make the Worst Timeline?

“Hustle, don’t hurry” is some pretty good advice, Tiz

So Magnolia’s learning to cook and just ended up making as many rice dishes as she could, because the team likes carbs. At least Edea’s into it?

So the Geyser Grotto gimmick is that each room has you start the battle with a different status (ex. Magic Up, Berserk) due to the spring waters. It’s a neat concept, but wildly inconvenient for my bestiary completion

Welp, Yōko found the sword and it’s pulling a Sumrbrandr from Magnus Chase and speaking

Ohhhhhh shit Yōko made a pact with it to claim its power and said she’d pay any price, so it took Danzaburō’s sword arm. It never said she’d be the one paying

Yew’s having a trauma flashback! Awww, he had an older half-brother that he loved a whole lot and was so excited for him to inherit House Geneolgia, but their dad picked Yew as his heir

Their dad gave Yew’s brother the ultimatum of “prove yourself by finding the sword or leave forever” and his brother left, so Yew went looking for the sword to get his brother back

You know, I’m playing Hogwarts Mystery at the same time as this, so between Yew’s brother, Danzaburō, and HPHM’s Jacob, that’s three instances of “older brother leaves/disappears and devoted younger sibling goes to fix the problem” in games I’m playing

These drawings of baby Yew are adorable. His hair’s a complete disaster

And since this is a flashback relevant to the current situation, Yew’s brother finds him just as Yew is about to make a pact with the sword (which big bro Geneolgia claims is a demon) and the sword attacks Yew’s brother as the price. He survived, but disappeared and no one’s seen him since

Wait, so Yew had this whole flashback, none of the party heard it, and then the second he wakes up he goes “I’ll tell you everything” and we get a fade to black as he tells the party what we just saw in flashback? Why not just have the flashback be Yew telling the party? This is a baffling structural choice

His brother was also going to be the leader of the Three Cavaliers, and the only reason Yew joined was to take up his brother’s position. Yeesh, kid, you’re 16! When did all of this happen, when you were 12? How the hell did you accomplish all of this?

Whhaaaaaaaaaat the fuck? What the... Okay, I knew Yōko was the holder of the Yōkai asterisk and that it involved collecting “Sins” that act as dark summons, but I was not expecting her to be a literal yōkai fox demon using illusions of the sword and creating the characters of “Yōko” and “Danzaburō” (who is not real) just to elaborately fuck with Yew

My actual theory was that Danzaburō was the son of the Emperor of Yunohana and Yōko was a demon (or half-demon), but also his adopted sister, and the whole “find the Sword of the Brave” thing was actually going to be to name Yōko the heir, not Danzaburō, and he’d just lied to Yōko about the real reason he was looking for it. Maybe Yōko had lost her memory of being a demon, so Danzaburō and their father made up a story to cover it up, explaining why she thought Danzaburō wasn’t the true heir of Yunohana. Guess I was pretty far off

Wait, does this bring my missing big brothers in games count down to 2, since Danzaburō wasn’t real? Man, that’s not an impressive number at all!

“You, who let your poor little brother die. Has finding a new “little brother” freed you of your guilt?” Bitch, I was literally just about to say how Yew and Tiz were good for each other because they filled the familial roles that the other had lost. Do NOT speak ill of my brOTP. It is a relationship of mutual healing

She’s also accusing Magnolia of defeating Ba’als just to run from the pain of losing people on the moon

OH HELL YEAH I KNOW THAT VOICE AND MUSIC. The sweet, echo-y tones of Alternis Dim!!! Just as Yōko was about to go after Edea, not-quite-Ringabel-but-close-enough shows up to save the day, to the theme of last game’s Asterisk fight theme, “That Person’s Name Is”. THAT PERSON’S NAME IS ALTERNIS DIM, BABYYYY!

...well he got blown up fast. Typical Alternis

Well, Yōko thought this whole thing was fun, so she’s gonna let us live and give us some information. Go to the Temple of Fire. That’s it. That’s the information

Alternis confirmed that no one died in the opening sequence when Agnès was kidnapped. He’s also glad to see Tiz awake

If only “you know who” could be here... Edea, are you talking about Agnès, who has been kidnapped, or was that a really harsh dig at the fact that you love Alternis’s alternate timeline self more

Awww, she tied a bow just like hers on Alternis as a bandage. Girl, he’s already in love with you you’re just gonna drive him nuts like this

Aternis: UHHHH WELL IT’S BEEN FUN GUYS but I’m gonna go chase after whatever the heck that demon was byeedeabyetiz

So the Fire Crystal is going out of control, just like what happened when you charged the crystals in Bravely Default. So the Kaiser is overloading the crystals to bust through to another world, like Airy did. Only a Vestal can do that, though, and Agnès claims that she hasn’t been doing that, and they never replaced the lost Vestals from the previous games. So either Agnès is getting controlled randomly and forgetting, or there’s someone else with a Vestal’s power hanging around

...didn’t Bella refer to herself as a Dark Vestal? I assumed she was dead, but she could still be alive. That, or the Kaiser has assembled a few “Dark Vestals” for this purpose

So the plan is to beat the Kaiser to Florem, where the only crystal he hasn’t visited yet is

...dammit Janne, you edgy loser. How many times am I gonna kick your ass? I was like, 10 levels too high for the last dungeon. What are you gonna do? Make scary wolf moves with your stances again?

Was that dialogue specifically because I defaulted the first few turns, or is it based on the amount of turns I took regardless of my actions?

“Fight like you mean it!” Yew’s my healer, Janne, I don’t think he’s gonna

Oh nooooo Janne fell from the bridge. He definitely not gonna come back I promise. That’s why there’s still a bestiary entry for him! Dude is so extra

Being able to turn off random encounters is so good for backtracking. I appreciate the variable combat frequency feature a lot. It’s great. Cuts down time for bestiary entries and grinding, and makes travel faster (though no less tedious at this point)

Kaiser’s got a robot hand. I imagine that that’s all that scene was for. I wonder where this could be going (I already know I was spoiled on the Kaiser’s identity, but for potential readers I’ll keep my mouth shut)

Nikolai: Janne’s gone maybe we should look-

Anne: Nah

Kaiser: Nah seconded, let’s book it

And Patissier boy works for the Kaiser. Like, duh. He was Aimee’s boyfriend, why wouldn’t he be?

It seems that relationship may have been one-sided. Angelo says he doesn’t care much for Aimee, but Anne thinks he’s bluffing

Are those soldiers Angelo’s admirers from town? Did he recruit random Hartschild women, or were they spies while in Hartschild

And back to Sidequest corner: Knight Heinkel vs. Ninja Kikyo! Ninja was the only one of the two I used in Default, but Worst Timeline prerogative determines the outcome here

Sholmes and Whitson? Seriously? We’re gonna solve the mystery of Edea eating Yew’s dumplings?

So Sholmes is Heinkel’s nephew, Heinkel is now an Inspector for the Yunohana police, Sholmes is going to interview for a position somewhere, and I imagine that Kikyo is the other person they mentioned

She is. She’s a private eye and apparently also related to Sholmes on his mother’s side? She’s his aunt?

Both cancelled the interviews to investigate a Starkfort murder! I imagine this is gonna be a battle of who each person thinks the culprit is

Man, so in the first game Heinkel and Kikyo went the whole game without mentioning either of their siblings AND the fact that their siblings were married to each other. Weird

The location card reads “Starkfort (For Sale by Owner)” oh my gosh???

Lord Earl Gulliver. This man has too many titles (I know that’s probably his first name, but still)

So our three witnesses are Gulliver’s wife, Madam Goldiga (pronounged “gold digga”), the owner of Starkfort, Lande Lessor, and Gulliver’s financier, Noah Entreste

Sholmes please. This is serious. You can’t just scream that someone in the room must be the murderer, even if someone in the room is probably, definitely a murderer

(It’s us. The party has killed people in the past and they shall do so again, even if this game made most of the murders in the first game non-canon)

You wanted Starkfort as a vacation home??? It is literally infested with demons

Goldiga left during some point in the tour for seemingly no reason, so she doesn’t have an alibi. The real problem is figuring out if the game is cliche enough to make her the killer, or if they’re gonna subvert it

Kikyo believes that the murderer was someone Gulliver trusted, since there was no sign of a struggle. That rules out Lessor, as they hadn’t met until that day. She suspects either Entreste or Goldiga because Entreste could move about freely since he was the owner and presumably had the keys, but the method of murder points to Goldiga

Edea accuses Kikyo, and Kikyo just hauls off on every way the murderer was an amateur. The blade was rusty, which would’ve taken two hands to use. It was poisoned, but a slash on the belt indicates that they missed, but the presence of poison suggests that the murderer had weak upper body strength, indicating Goldiga. Hell yeah you go Kikyo show that assassin knowledge

I actually do like this sidequest. I’ve got a thing for mysteries and solving this one is fun

Lessor and Entreste both wanted the sale to go through. Lessor wanted this demon-ridden property off his hands. Entreste is a banker looking to make a sale. They met that day. Goldiga has the most motive, though Edea and Heinkel are skeptical, as I was

Can I guess now that the culprit was Gulliver and he accidentally killed himself with his own poisoned dagger like a chump

Actually, scratch that. I want to say it was Whitson. He’s using too many ellipses

He’s going on about how his entire family has just been the assistants to the members of Sholmes’s family. It was definitely him

Goldiga’s dead you say? I’m so shocked! I could not possibly have seen this game attempt to subvert expectations!

She had a note reading “I shall follow where you go”. So now it’s a question of planted to make it look like a suicide, or an actual suicide

So Sholmes and Whitson worked at Starkfort years ago. Whitson is the murderer is looking more and more likely

I think I was wrong about what the conflict is. It’s should Sholmes be a police inspector or a private investigator. Honestly, I’d say neither, but at least Heinkel could whip him into shape. So let’s pick Kikyo

Man, that pissed Whitson off

There really isn’t a “worse” option here, I just personally think the police office is better for Sholmes. He needs someone to tell him when he’s out of line, and I feel like Kikyo would sooner ignore him and go off on her own than help. Besides, Heinkel’s trained worse, and he could do a lot for Sholmes in terms of training. So naturally I’m gonna tell Sholmes to go with Kikyo and kick Heinkel’s ass

Damn, I forgot how hard Heinkel could be. I ended up spamming my Zeus’s Wraths near the end of that

It WAS Whitson! Actually, Whitson was Heinkel, at least for that fight!

So the epilogue says that Whitson told Goldiga about the hidden passages in Starkfort, and she killed Gulliver. She tried to get Whitson to help her. The note was from Gulliver. It was part of his novel. Sholmes is working solo and acting as a police consultant a la his namesake

Kikyo actually likes Sholmes and she’s proud of him. “I feel compelled to come to every crime scene with a batch of freshly baked cookies.” You know what, I like Kikyo. She’s good

Off to get a decent boat! And meet the lord of Yunohana. For the boat!

Kusatsu Arima, Lord of Baths. Can that be my new title?

He... only has a gondola. And only makes soap and bath puns. And oh Angelo’s here. Team’s about to get pastry drugged, aren’t they?

Aaaaand now Tiz is unresponsive because I let him eat first

Oh was this the boss fight already?

Tiz just faded from existence? Because his cakes literally whisk you off to heaven? And he did that to all of Hartschild?

Tiz is a ghost in this fight and can only use magic BUT DOES THE CATMANCER ABILITY STILL WORK???

Well, I completely murdered the girl who gives the Catmancy skill, so it doesn’t matter. Oh well, I think there’s more in Florem

I had ghost Tiz summon a Tiz doing a gun special attack and that wrecked everything. I feel it was poetic considering Angelo’s trash talking Aimee

Angelo just tried to commit Suicide by Cake. He was stopped by a ring with a farewell note from Aimee tied to it that I imagine she shot into the air when she died, and because she’s just THAT GOOD of a shot it made it to Angelo at precisely this moment

Her last request was for Angelo to open a pancake shop and make everyone as happy as he made her, as long as he loved her even a little. And he’s gonna do it, even though he’s calling her annoying as he was agreeing to do it

Can the hot springs cure Tiz’s... ghost status?

Oh they dumped spring water on him and it worked. Okay?

Just Yew and Tiz in the baths again, since it turns out Danzaburō wasn’t real so they were alone in the first place

Aw, Yew and Magnolia are talking about the accidental engagement. Magnolia admits she overreacted, but she was so touched when he proposed

Ah! Voice is here! Man with the Purple Pen that for some reason everyone’s cool with!

So the hot springs were a boat, and Voice just unanchored it

The lord’s actually excited about this. He gave us the boat. So now we can take the springs to Hartschild and save the people Angelo ghosted

Edea’s gonna drive? Where’s Alternis when he’d actually be useful?

I was wondering what the last icon on the bottom screen was gonna be for. It’s boat access and switching to the raft

We just accidentally adopted bath lady Sakura as our mom

Oh come on, I just want the chapter to end. We did the boss fight! Why are Sergeant Sapp and Private Piddler here!?

That fight sucked

And we have fixed Hartschild. Nice. And Goodman’s okay! Nice.

Magnolia, stop waxing poetic about Goodman and his wife having to put their love aside to fulfill their duties. I get how it’s relevant to you and Yew, but can we just end this chapter?

Yew has named our boat the Rubadub. Cute

The Skyhold has been hit! By a laser! CHAPTER END

Female voice monologues about memory and regret. Every day was meant to change you into a better person

And theme song. Is this gonna happen every chapter? Not that I mind, because it’s a good song. Gives the whole game structure a very anime feel

FINALLY. This chapter feels like it took me a century. I’ve been on it for several months, at least! That’s not to say it was BAD (certain sidequests aside) but boy did it feel like it was dragging on forever. I’ve gotta wonder if the arc fatigue was just due to how I was playing the game, or if other people felt it, too. The Yōko reveal was pretty stellar, though

Hopefully the next chapter won’t take me at least 1/4 of a year to finish!

SPECULATION SPOILER CORNER

Rereading this to edit, I’m pretty sure Danzaburō ’s physical similarities to the Kaiser weren’t just a coincidence like I brushed them off as above. That had to be intentional on Yōko’s end. Yew’s jealousy about Yōko and Danzaburō ’s relationship also makes much more sense now

#bravely default #bravely second #liz liveblogs bravely second #oh man it's finally here: the liveblog a whole two people read #the holly/profiteur sidequest just killed the momentum for me #but we be back

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creativepoole · 6 years

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Forbidden - Part Four - Fire: The Battle Book

‘Who?’ Asked Drake, as was usual for the beginning of a duel. His voice echoed loudly.

‘Markiah Holt. First of District Twenty-seven.’ The man was a giant. Bare chested, with a fluff of dark brown hair between his pectorals. His arms were as muscular as could be possible, but his stomach was fat and his legs thin. Across his back was slung a heavy iron mace with a haft of two metres in length. The man stood one head higher than even that.

Drake sat his grey stone throne on the dais of the great hall. This was the ground floor of the tower of the Fifth City, a hall so large that the flaming braziers that uniformly lined the room from dais to door could not illuminate the walls, which were lost in inky blackness.

‘Come.’ The Guardian commanded, standing from his seat, black and green robes falling about him. A large hood concealed his face in shadow.

The giant of a man reached for his weapon and made to charge the long distance, but darkness suddenly surrounded him. A wind ran cold through the room, the fires were extinguished, and then emerald flame was loosed across the hall. A scream lost itself to the gloom.

The flames of the braziers returned with a flash of green, and then their hot tongues turned golden once again. Drake was sat on his throne, his right hand smoking from beneath his long sleeve. Far across from him, near the large bronze doors of the hall, was a smouldering heap of bone and flesh, burnt blood and bubbling fat.

The Fifth City was one of hard stone, hard steel and harder men. Once it was the City of Flowers, some called it the Fifth Petal. But when its previous Guardian had died, fallen from his tower, the city soon became the City of Flame, the Rotten Petal.

Drake had been chosen as the next Guardian. He had entered the city with an army, fresh from battle beyond the walls of the Fourth City. With these dark men came a dark culture, brutal and without mercy. These were soldiers who had fought and seen death, won a great war, yet gained no prize for themselves. Drake awarded them the city, honouring each captain of his military with leadership of each district. The gentle folk were driven from their homes, and only those with the will or skill to survive remained.

The battle hungry Drake turned the city into the arena of a great game. Each district would present to him their strongest warrior, decided through deadly combat, and a duel between Champion and Guardian would commence. The loser would perish, the winner would sit the stone throne until death, commanding a great host and ruling a rotten city. Many men travelled to the Fifth City, many men became Champion, known as the First, but each were ended by the emerald flame.

He sat his throne day and night, ate at the throne, spoke from the throne, commanded from the throne, killed from the throne. Since his time in the city, Drake had never once explored the other floors of the tower, nor performed the sacred ritual that all Guardians should. He remained mostly seated. A day would come that would be different.

‘My lord commander!’ The stout man entered the hall, his boiled leather and ring mail armour coated in the blood of others. ‘The city gate has fallen and District One is under attack.’ His shouts echoed about the room as he quickly marched toward the dais.

Drake leant onto his knees and spoke with interest. ‘Whose army?’

‘No army, my lord.’ The stout soldier coughed. ‘Just a man.’

The Guardian sat back into his throne and thought for a moment. ‘Any warrior from District Thirty and onward could do the same. Let this man come, and let him break himself against the shields of the Champions.’

‘Yes my lord.’ The soldier bowed and retreated from the room. The bronze doors closed behind him.

A day passed and the soldier returned, his arm a bandaged stump. ‘My Lord Commander, Districts One through Twenty-five have fallen. Their Champions have been defeated. I led a retinue to confront the man, but we were defeated. I managed to escape here to you, even in great pain.’

‘This does not concern me. Did I not tell you that greater Champions would defeat this man?’

‘Yes my lord, however-‘

‘Silence.’ Drake’s voice was soft, but it carried a darkness in it. ‘Leave me.’

‘Yes my lord.’ The man exited.

Two days passed without word. Drake continued to sit, his silent servants serving food and drink. On the third day, the great bronze doors opened and a new face appeared. A younger man than the stout soldier, longer of leg and broad shouldered. ‘M’Lord commander.’ Fear was on his voice. ‘Districts Forty to the city gates have fallen.’ The man fell to his knees. Drake noticed bloody marks on his legs, as if bitten.

‘Have my army assembled, hunt the man down.’ He was calm.

The soldier grimaced in pain. ‘M’lord. Your army was deployed yesterday, and already a third have fallen.’

Drake sat up straight, intrigued. ‘How is this so?’

‘The remaining fighters from forty districts have rallied behind a man who they call the new ruler.’

‘Have they now?’

‘Yes M’Lord… Only…’ The soldier showed much fear.

‘Speak.’ Commanded the Guardian.

‘Well M’Lord, not only have the citizens rebelled, but there are worse things… Packs of ghostly wolves run savage through the streets, and there’s been word of other evils. Demons made of lightning, they fall from the sky and turn our ranks to ash.’ The man fell to his hands, his fingers gripping the stone floor helplessly. ‘M’Lord, we won’t last a day even.’

‘Leave me, and fight.’ Said Drake. ‘I’ll await this new Champion and his followers if you fail.’

‘But M’Lord-‘

‘Go!’ He commanded, and the soldier obliged, scurrying out of the bronze doors.

Ten more hours he sat, and then the doors to his hall opened once again. Another soldier entered, armoured in brown leather under mail, and a dark green wool spun hooded cloak over that. A dagger was strapped to his belt, a bastard sword across his back and a fine yew longbow was at hand. ‘Guardian. The city has fallen and your army is all but broken.’

‘How many of my men are left fighting?’ Asked Drake, somewhat unmoved by the news.

‘Small bands are scattered across many districts, unable to regroup and rebuild a host.’ The soldier spoke while approaching the throne with strong steps. ‘They will be defeated or captured in short time.’

‘Tell me the name of the man who has broken my city gates, raised an army from my people and smashed my own forces. Tell me the name of this Champion of all districts.’ Drake was not easily fooled by this soldier. ‘Who?’

‘Addison, son of Adam, of the Storm. Heir to the Guardianship of the Second City and slayer of traitors.’

Drake’s smile could be seen within the shade of the black hood. ‘Come.’

Darkness overcame the light of the braziers, a chill ran through the air and then a green heat made to swallow Addison. The emerald flame tumbled through the blackness, its light illuminating the stone below it. It fell against the ground were Addison stood, splashing angry and hot. When the orange fires returned to light up the hall once again, Drake sat while eyeing a pile off black ash on top of scorched stonework, thoroughly pleased.

The hall was silent for many minutes, and Drake fell into his usual habit of sitting and waiting. Perhaps the rebel army would storm his hall next, breaking through the bronze doors in the hope that their leader and champion had disposed of the Guardian. What a fun scenario that would be. He would burn hundreds with his flame, savouring the sounds and the smells. It had been years since he had burnt more than one or two men at a time, and there was nothing quite like the taste of charred flesh on the air. He allowed himself a wide grin, quite happy with the thought. His smile was then lengthened across his right cheek, a burn curling up to his ear.

From the shadows to his left came a second bolt of white and blue light, then a third and a forth, each narrowly missing Drake as he leapt from his stone seat and took to the shadows of the opposite side of the hall. When each bolt of energy sparked up, they rendered Addison in a blue glow, pulling on the string of his longbow and loosing the electric arrows at the darkly robed Guardian. When his shafts of light were in the air and away, the shadows reformed around Addison and concealed him once again.

The Guardian slipped into the shadows himself, hidden from Addison. The only light was burning between them down the centre of the hall. There was no movement, no sound, each of them waiting for the other to act. It was Drake whose impatience won out first.

With a breath and a conjuration of power, the Guardian raised his hand and allowed flames to lick up about his fingers. The magic was thrown to where Addison was thought to be, a ball of fire arcing across the hall, the light revealing Drake’s own place within the shadows.

While the magic was still in the air, the blue glow from Addison’s primed missile revealed him to be several metres to the left. On quick release he was shrouded yet again. The bolt passed by Drake’s chest as he dodged, passing between arm and body, and burning and ripping through the dark robes. The shaft of energy ended its journey against the wall far behind Drake, dispersing in a flash of light that silhouetted the Guardian. Another bolt was loosed and Drake was forced to dodge once again, evading with increasing speed.

‘I have no patience for this!’ Drake called out, annoyed. His power swelled and his will called for light. The high ceiling of the hall became awash in emerald brilliance, flames flowing over the stone, chasing away the shadows. Tall square stone pillars became apparent, spaced metres between and splitting the hall into thirds across its width. Beyond them were stone walls with jet black tapestries inlaid onto them. The black stone shimmered with the green light, the images it displayed describing some ancient battle, where five armies united to overcome some inhuman horror.

‘It was you who favoured the darkness, I simply followed your lead.’ Addison stood with bow in hand, his cloak and hood missing, part of the armour on his shoulder was singed, black but intact.

‘It is not often a man evades my fire.’ Drake spoke from beneath his hood. ‘But your magic is weak, and you will not last.’

‘Magic?’ Addison looked at his bow and back to Drake. ‘This? This is not my magic, this is simply an enchanted weapon. Silent, stealthy. Though stealth has failed me.’ Addison threw the wooden bow aside with a clatter. He raised a hand and pointed at the Guardian. ‘This is my magic.’

Drake could feel it. There was a fuzz about his skin, the air was electric. Before he knew it, he was rolling away with black and green robes spiralling around him, as the arc of lightning crept quickly across the hall and exploded with a crack against the black tapestry behind him. Another came, and Drake still moved, leaping behind one of the hall’s stone pillars. He soon found himself sprinting to the next when the first pillar exploded into dust.

Behind the second pillar was a moment’s reprieve, when Drake could consider his next move. Hit him before he hits me. Was his first thought. So Drake leant out from behind the pillar and made to toss fire. He quickly ducked back into safety as Addison’s magic crackled toward him, thundering through the location where his head had once been. Close… He sighed. Let’s try this again. The Guardian leant out, took note of Addison’s position, and ducked back behind the pillar as another bolt flew towards him. Immediately he jumped out from the opposite side of his cover, hand engulfed in his signature green flame. The hot green magic was launched across the room toward Addison who had reacted to the movement, sending another crackling bolt of electricity toward Drake.

The fire intercepted the path of the lightning, and Drake briefly thought that the magic would disrupt or cancel each other out. They did not. Both flame and electricity struck where their targets would have been standing, if not for their simultaneous evasion. The fire splashed against the ground, the lightning popped with a flash, and Drake made an advantageous discovery.

It seemed to him that the electricity could pass through the emerald flame without dispersing the fire. It would have been pleasing if Addison’s magic could be disrupted, but this would work in his favour greatly. He gathered his power deep within himself, building heat inside. His stomach burned, his body shook and then quickened to a vibration so fast that the stone at his feet was worn. The magic took him, his entire being erupted into fire. Drake became fire.

From behind the stone pillar came a shade, shadow and fire entwined. It danced across the hall towards Addison, green and black, hungering to embrace the other with a devouring heat. Lightning struck, once and then twice, but each bolt passed through the elemental being with no affect.

A deep laugh sounded from the fire, the flames rising with each bellow. Drake was untouchable. Addison turned and ran, sprinting towards the dais as Drake followed in his new form. The shade chased him to the throne and then beyond, tossing fire as he did.

Behind the stone chair was a doorway with stairs leading up. Addison darted through and up the steps into the unlit stair and on to the upper floors of the Guardian’s tower. Drake followed, his heat leaving a scorched wake on the stone floor behind him.

Addison’s footsteps echoed as he ran, washing down through the stairwell and into the floors below him. Drake followed the sound, illuminating the way with his flickering light. He passed many doors, some locked, some open, some broken, yet the echo of running continued, so he continued to follow. It was around the thirtieth floor that the other sound started. It was low at first, but then as he reached the thirty-first floor, the roaring began. It was the sound of running water coming from behind a closed door. Water trickled out from the foot of the door, and very quickly began to steam when it came into proximity of Drake. The sound of sprinting continued above, so the Guardian left the closed room alone and floated up.

Drake had reached the fortieth floor when Addison stopped running. He would only have to search two or three floors above him to find his enemy from the sound of it, and burn him alive. The forty-first floor opened up from a broken down door, its hinges rusted and torn, the wood scattered just on the inside. Empty bookshelves and tables filled a large chamber, the green light lit the room and revealed there to be nothing living inside. Drake continued on.

The forty-second floor had a door loose on its hinges. It swung open under the force of Drake’s fiery form and immediately combusted, combining with the green light to illuminate the room with orange and emerald. Inside was some sort of maintenance room, filled with brass pipes that bubbled within. They seemed to be pushing water or perhaps some other liquid about the room and possibly the rest of the tower. When Drake approached the pipes, they quickly began to shake and hiss, steam and bubbles fizzing out of the seams of the metalwork. He moved away again, satisfied that Addison was not there.

But as he turned to leave, the light caused the pipes to cast moving shadows. Drake thought he saw movement within, something hugging the dark shapes as they moved. His magic charged, the fire and his form was ablaze, flickering and burning more than before. The room was bright, the temperature intense. Steam escaped the pipes with a whistle, the brass rumbled and the sounds became unbearable. And then from the shadows Addison appeared, peering through the complex lattice of pipework, his lips moving, but his words obscured by the thunderous sound of the shaking brass and the squeal of the steam. Then came the water.

The pipes burst, gushing and steaming. The rush took Drake, and the next thing he knew he was tumbling down through the tower stair, his flame extinguished and his solid form rolling over steps with water surrounding him. The torrent forced him down and down, crushing him against stone steps and then throwing him up at the stone ceiling, but still down and down and down. By the time the water had stopped, Drake was sprawled on the stair, just outside the door of the seventh floor. His back, shoulders and neck ached, his knee throbbed, but he was otherwise unharmed. A normal man would have been killed.

The darkness surrounded him, he could feel the wet slickness of the ground, could hear the running water continue down to the floors below, and could hear the crackle come from above. The purple blue light was a din at first, but soon crept around the spiralling stone walls of the stairwell and towards Drake. He ran. He could feel the air change, the electric buzz went through his body, he was no fool, he knew what came for him. The light chased him quickly, faster than fast, and Drake could not outrun it. His robes were heavy with water, the steps were too wet to run down without slipping. He found himself correcting his balance more than once, checking himself against the outside wall.

At the Guardian’s heels came fingers of lightning, travelling through the water, grasping hungrily for his legs. Their brightness was rivalled only by their electric heat. He would be caught, but… Drake focused himself, found the centre of his internal energy and brought it to the surface. As before, his form was released into elemental fire and the electric magic found no grip on him. And so the water came again.

When Drake was next on his feet, it was after being washed down the stair and back into the great hall. He had been soaked through and dripped heavily from his robes. The black and green material hugged his head and body tightly. Before he was fully aware, his head still spinning, the crackling magic came from the dark doorway behind the dais. Again the electric power sought out Drake, using the water to find him. The lightning magic found nothing, as the Guardian transformed himself once more. Just as Drake had adapted to Addison’s lightning, Addison had adapted to Drake’s seemingly untouchable fire. This angered him.

The green flame exploded in size, demonstrating Drake’s fury. His anger grew and his power swelled. The elemental form of smoke and fire and shadow doubled in size, then doubled again, and then again and again and again. Drake screamed and burned and scorched. The great stone hall filled up with his heat, the floor began to soften and glow, edging towards molten. The orange fires of the braziers were lost to the emerald.

I have never… Drake was lost in his anger, he had never lost a battle. I will never! He forced his growing mass into the stairway, his flames travelling up the steps, licking at the walls and spreading into each and every room in the tower. Libraries burned, pumping stations burst and the water evaporated, stone melted, glass vaporised and the very air itself was heated until it exploded out of the top of the tower, raining stone and mortar down on to the city below.

The release of energy was all that Drake could manage, and he was soon left standing in the darkened hall with his fires extinguished. The tower top was gone, the power and heat had been so incredible. Addison had surely perished. Surely.

The air was light, his breathing was heavy and laboured. Drake made his way through the darkness, over the dull shimmering floor to the doors of the hall. Before he could reach the doorway, the hinges creaked and the bronze doors swung open. Light flooded the great room from outside and three long shadows crept across the hot stone ground. Growls echoed, and padded feet and claws sang out as the grey and black shapes made for Drake. Their yellow eyes aglow.

The wolves were on him, teeth shredding his clothes and gnawing at his legs. Drake kicked one off, kicked out again and struck the beast on the nose, and then again on the neck. The animal rolled away violently, and then one of its pack mates was thrown atop of it. Both animals dispersed into smoke with the impact, and the last of the three was left to have its throat torn out by Drake’s own hands, flesh and blood and fur all vanishing into dark mist in his fingers.

He laughed, amused by these apparitions. Addison was certainly creative in the use of his magic. He was also creative in his strategies, turning the city against Drake. So now he must leave the tower and take back what was his, before the entire game comes to an end.

He left the hall and entered the city streets, dark dirt roads and dark stone buildings with dark tiled roofs and dark dirty windows, all damaged by the fallen stones of the Guardian’s tower. The world was grey and blue and orange, the night sky mingling with the fires that raged below it. The sound of steel against steel could be heard and the screams of the dying too, all off in the distance. Drake walked with torn robes and aching bones, heading toward the sound of battle. It was a song to him, beautiful and an inspiration to his blood lust.

Passing abandoned houses and the abandoned dead, the Guardian took in the sights and the smells. His lungs sucked it in, his eyes wide with it all. It was revitalising. His pain subsided, his heart pumped, his energies rose. He laughed and screamed and laughed again, and then he laughed and screamed and screamed and laughed and ran and screamed! The tight dark streets opened up into a fountained square and a battle was at hand, swords and shields knocking and clanging together, armour and weapons rang, shouts lingered in the air and echoed against the buildings surrounding the square. Drake came into the fray with his voice singing a frightening song. He leapt into the air, higher than any normal man could, and landed within the fight, crushing the head of one lightly armoured soldier beneath his feet, and then striking with a bare fist against another. The second man’s armoured chest crumpled like paper, his body propelled into a couple that were dancing with steal and iron between them.

The fighting men soon stopped their skirmish, fearful of Drake, and their unwillingness to continue fighting was their doom. Drake swept into one side of the joined battle, like a scythe he cut soldiers down with feet and fists alone. He moved quickly, faster than the other men could run, and was soon standing over their writhing bodies. The other half of the square broke out of their shock and dared to run away, but Drake was on them. He charged up their rear, grabbing at shoulders and heads and arms, pulling and crushing and throwing. Bodies were tossed aside like leaves in the wind, landing heavy on the ground or inside the dried up fountain. They smashed into buildings, through windows and doors. The Guardian’s strength was inhuman… But then he was inhuman.

Drake pulled at his ruined black and green robes and ripped them from his body, tossing them aside. Beneath was a black, full body overall, with neither gloves nor boots. His head was bald, his skin pale and sickly green, and from the left side of his neck to his cheek was silver green scale. He took a breath and allowed a pleasurable shiver to run from his head to his toes, and smiling he took off again, sprinting through the city.

One street was filled with men victorious over Drake’s loyal army, the Fifth City’s soldiers lay dead at their feet. He bulled into them all, his shoulders and fists and elbows cracking bone beneath their force. The next street was not as populated, just one large man busy looting a house of stored weapons. Drake dashed past the man, as quick as a flash, leaving a broken necked doll to fall to the ground. An enemy, an innocent, or his own men, Drake engaged them all. His lust for battle outweighed his rationality.

After travelling through several districts of the city without contact, Drake began to calm, but then he came to a long and wide street, easily able to fit five carts across. Beyond the road was fire, and fighting, and the Guardian craved it. He rushed on, only to stop when a crowd appeared from alleyways and buildings ahead of him. They stood their ground in front of him, blocking the street, baring swords and maces and bows and slings. Drake laughed. ‘That’s him!’ One man pointed with his blade. ‘The old Guardian!’

‘Come!’ Drake shouted, but the men made no such attempt. He laughed and clapped his hands together, creating a green spark and a small flame between his palms. When he pulled his hands apart, a long black blade grew from them and ended with a dark green hilt. He took the sword in one hand and slid the blade through the heel of the other. His blood coloured the sharp edge and then was alight, the sword aflame in that emerald green that was so commonly used. ‘Come now, and die fighting, or die running.’ The men’s faces were fearful, and Drake loved it.

‘I never would have taken you as a swordsman.’ The voice was a surprise, and not only to Drake. The line of fighters parted at the centre and Addison stepped through them with a limp.

Drake smiled. ‘How did you survive?’

‘You blew me out of a window, luckily not so high up that I could not save myself.’

‘You are very skilled.’ He pointed with his blade. ‘But your magic is weak!’

‘As is yours, that is why you failed to kill me.’ The Guardian was enraged by that. Addison scratched his head, gave a yawn and then continued to speak. ‘I have known about you for a long time, Drake. I took part in the war beyond the Fourth City, where your name was legendary. Your army was powerful, your command unrivalled.

‘Unfortunately, I entered the war after you took your leave of it, so I never had the opportunity to meet with you. But I was able to see the results of your campaign, the death and the destruction; the charred remains of men and women; of the wildlife; the trees and the villages. You left a scarred land, where even hardened soldiers were turned back with revulsion.’ He looked Drake in the eyes. Those pale green eyes. ‘I came here with fear of you, with anger for a great many things, but that fear has gone.’

‘You will fear me again.’ Drake took a step toward Addison, and another. ‘My magic can consume you and end you within the blink of an eye, or it can burn you slowly, stretching out your death into hours and days.’ He kept walking forward. ‘But for you, I would not use my magic. My blade was made for you, Addison. I have waited for you, I have dreamt of the day that my steel would kiss one such as you!’ His quick walk turned to a jog. ‘No spells, just swords!’ His lips curled into a cruel smile. His sword aglow as the green fire curled up around the blade.

Addison answered by gripping the hilt of his own sword, drawing the weapon from over his shoulder. The blade was clean and silver blue, it’s edge well sharpened. It left the scabbard with the sound of metal scraping leather ringing in the air. ‘Just swords.’

His words must have inspired some courage in the other men. Just swords. Their fear for magic left them and they charged at Drake, leaving Addison standing alone, his blade hanging in his hand. Just swords. Metal flashed, steel clashed with steel, but only Drake was victorious. His flaming sword cut through the other men’s weapons, through their armour and shields. The Guardian in battle danced around the rest, his blade whirling and slicing. Screams sang out around him, bodies thudding to the ground. ‘You will fear me!’ Drake screamed out. He was as graceful as he was deadly, as fast as he was strong. No one could touch him. ‘You will fear me!‘

One warrior swung an axe at Drake’s head, but the Guardian was under it and cutting through the assailant with a flash of green. The blade sliced through and then into another behind. It caught the other warrior’s spine and jammed, but a kick was all it took to shove the second man away and retrieve the blade, just in time to swipe upward and block the sword of a heavily armoured giant. Drake kicked his knee, metal bent and the bone inside cracked. The man fell, Drake spun backward on one heel and brought the other foot around to the man’s helmet, crushing it and its contents like a juicy red grape. In the same motion, his sword was in another opponent, cutting from collar to waist.

The men died quickly around him, great warriors or not, and he would have it that Addison would die the same. The pale green man approached the son of Adam with speed, raising his black sword above his head, poised to strike down. Addison stood motionless, his sword at his side. When Drake came down on him, the other man stepped aside and allowed the Guardian to pass him by, the blue bladed sword parrying the black and green. Drake whirled around, his blade whistling, reaching out for the foe. The momentum when coupled with inhuman strength and speed created an unimaginable force, one that could slice a man in half with ease. But instead of striking Addison, the flaming sword flew down the street, spinning like a wheel of fire. Drake’s hand was still holding on to the hilt.

Addison had knelt below Drake’s whirling attack, cutting upwards with his own blade and severing the pale man’s hand from the wrist. Drake made no sound, but his wide eyes spoke for him. Addison rose up to his feet and slammed his shoulder into Drake’s chest, causing him to stumble. Blood ran from the open wound, and on contact with the air it combusted into green fire. A steady flow of flame poured from the Guardian’s pained and bloody stump.

‘I am a better Swordsman than I am a Mage.’ Addison proclaimed. Drake looked up in shock, his mouth opened and closed. No words came.

Addison wasted no time. He stepped forward heavily, putting his weight behind the point of his metallic blue blade. The tip took Drake between his collarbones, into the soft dimple of his throat. The deep red ran down the blade and was ablaze. When the sword was removed, scraping against flesh and bone and scale, the blood ran loose.

Drake’s eyes were still wide with shock when the emerald flames engulfed him, his life blood flowing freely from him and ensuring his death with fire. His skin blistered, his blood boiled, his life was ended.

It was painful.

#andrew poole #creativepoole #forbidden #magic #mage #short #novella #writing #literature #battle #duel #fire #green #emerald #lightning #wolves #sword #game #tower #revenge

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bewarethefangirl · 8 years

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Designing Luxendarc with Doll Makers #3- Growing the Family Tree

So, kids. When you ship characters, sometimes you have them have kids, and I'm not the only one.

My problem is, sometimes, it can get a little outta hand when you have lots of AUs. I had to make a freaking LIST of which children goes with who- and that's just with two characters, Janne and Yew! They have fifteen kids in all my AUs between the two! Thankfully, due to headcanons, Tiz and Agnès do not have the same problem as those two and only has four kids, and as for Edea and Ringabel... Let's just say I'm waiting for Third and leave it at that.

THE LISTS:

Arch-Geneolgia -All AUs that follows the canon ship of Yew and Magnolia, because those two deserves happiness. Rubina Basil Branwen

Balestra-Geneolgia -Mainly 'Berryverse, but can be used with any universe that utilizes THE POWER OF LUNAR MEDICINE Wolfram Esteban Alstroemeria Branwen

Balestra (Denys) -This is mostly Swanverse canon. The Japanese artist Oukan got me into it. Eloise Falk Aurel

Balestra (Minette) -I blame Miss Tree to get me into the ship. Granted, the idea that Minette is older than Janne is funny already. Bastet Oskar Astrid Remus Romulus

THE KIDS:

Rubina Arch-Geneolgia

Ruby, Ruby, Ruby. My adorable Ruby. I managed to use a customizer made to create your own Corrin to design you, Ruby. You are the heiress of House Arch-Geneolgia and YOU OWN IT, sweetie. You were the biggest evidence that your mother's looks wasn't due to albinism when you were born with everything but her hair color- instead, you inherited your uncle's hair color, except a tad darker. In Swanverse, you and your cousin Eloise are as thick as thieves, and as older sisters to your respective siblings, how can you not? The same thing happens with your cousin Bastet. You're also very close to Uncle Janne- in fact, he taught you everything you know about swordplay, making sure to take care of the wounds you end up with. Nikolai was also your grandpa figure, as warm and kind as your father.

Once you got old enough, you continued the Geneolgia tradition of joining the Crystalguard, and even used the Kaiser Asterisk as a Sub to help your abilities. The scar on your nose was a result of a successful mission as a cadet, a badge of honor that represented the will of House Arch-Geneolgia. You'll even end up as a member of the Three Cavaliers, though without the influences of the high houses, you weren't the leader. Being the heiress of House Arch-Geneolgia is responsibility enough.

Basil Arch-Geneolgia

Oh, Basil, you and your poliosis. Your role as member of House Arch-Geneolgia made you perfect in becoming an ambassador, and your charming Geneolgia looks helps you in that role. While your sister Ruby looks more like your mother, you, on the other hand, look a whole lot like both your father and your uncle. You're three years younger than Rubina, in fact, and four years older than Branwen. While you're not interested in being an Asterisk Bearer, you did had training with them, preferring the skills of the Ranger and Pirate Asterisks. You end up being best friends with Yasu, who's parents were once trainees under your father and your grandpa figure. Your family is very important to you, as well, and you always make sure your parents and sisters are always in good health.

Of course, you're not exactly perfect- you have an immense fear of wasps and had learn fire magic to deal with them. And because you know so many languages, sometimes you end up a little tongue-tied at figuring out the word in one language while knowing said word in another! And yet that also adds to your charm.

Branwen Arch-Geneolgia

There's another Branwen, when your father Yew is married Balestra instead of Arch. You two Branwen almost share the same name. Both of you are the youngest children. The two of you have the typical Geneolgia glasz eyes, with your non-Geneolgia parent's eye shape. And speaking of your non-Geneolgia parent, the both of you inherited their hair color, as well as their skin tone. You've also inherited your mothers', ah, bust-size (or in the other Branwen's case, her grandmother's as well). Neither of you prefer combat, and instead preferred in dabbing in every Asterisk for non-combative utilities.

However, you are the youngest of three siblings instead four, and you prefer Asterisks such as White Mage, Bishop, Performer and Patissier. You end up working for the Orthodoxy as some sort of cleric, but your main role as a member of House Arch-Balestra is to make sure everyone in Gathelatio aren't being idiots. Especially the high houses, who does have a history of making stupid decisions.

Wolfram Balestra-Geneolgia

Wolf, you take after your father Janne and uncle Denys in looks. You have Janne's dark hair and Denys's eye color, thought your eyes are darker. You are a stoic young man, yet as passionate as your parents and as scholarly as Yew(berry). You are the eldest, your brother Esteban born three years after you. Your name was chosen to match your parents, but the "ram" also doubled as a nod to your Crystalfather Tiz, the shepherd of Norende. Your kind heart made you follow in your surrogate grandfather's path and become the next Bishop Asterisk Bearer, but you added an impressive skill to your repertoire- bo staff training. You've also trained in the White Mage Asterisk for some offensive abilities, but your greatest weapon is your politeness- you know politeness judo, and you use it well.

You are the heir of House Balestra-Geneolgia, however you decided not to become the head, instead giving the role to your younger brother Esteban, that you see as the better leader of the four of you. Thankfully, your siblings agreed with that decision. You've started a school funded by the high houses of Gathelatio for the impoverished children, thanks to your younger sister Alstroemeria's rather... forceful personality. (Honestly, it wasn't a surprised that Meria was very much a chip off the old block named Janne. People has joked she was born via budding.)

Esteban Balestra-Geneolgia

Born three years after Wolfram and two years before your sister Alstroemeria, you look so Geneolgia that it's sometimes easy to forget you've inherited your father Janne's green eyes and your Balestra grandmother's freckles. Training has left you a scar at your eyebrow, which you kept as a reminder to be careful. You're a pretty quiet guy, but you're also rather adventurous, hot-blooded and outgoing. You never wanted to be an Asterisk Bearer, but you do dabble in Emperor when the time is needed. You are fond of archery, and have trained intensely in it since you could hold a bow.

You are next in line as heir of House Balestra-Geneolgia, but your natural leadership skills made Wolfram choose you over him as head of the household, which you accepted. Like the rest of your family, you worked in improving Gathelatio and its citizens, and your main goal was to ensure enough jobs were created to help sustain Gathelatio's citizens and keep the economy growing. You also help created a boom of tabletop games, creating a new reason for social gathering.

Alstroemeria Balestra-Geneolgia

Meria, you just look like a female version of Janne with Yew(berry)'s hair and eye color. Heck, you were even born on the same day as Janne! Younger than Esteban at two years while older than Branwen at four, you are the most vocal of them as well as a natural-born leader like Esteban. Because you take so much after your father Janne, it didn't came as a surprise when you became the next Fencer Asterisk Bearer. You've also studied under Kamiizumi to learn the ways of the Swordmaster Asterisk, bolstering your aptitude with the sword.

While you are a natural-born leader, you weren't interested in becoming head of House Balestra-Geneolgia, and was overjoyed when Esteban took the position. Instead, you aimed to use your talents to become the leader of the Three Cavaliers, and became the first Balestra to do so, while being the first Geneolgia to gain the position without the influence of a High House. You enjoyed helping out trainees find their talents within the Crystalguard, and your willingness to aid people quickly made you a popular figure in Gathelatio. You also have a massive sweet tooth (thought not to the insane intensity that is Edea Lee) and would always go to the local bakery and sweet shops to buy the daily specials.

Branwen Balestra-Geneolgia

I've already spoken of your Arch-Geneolgia counterpart above. The baby of the family, born four years after Meria, you are reserved and formal- and yet you're an extrovert who eschews tradition. Thanks to the former Pope Agnès, a group of untouched Asterisks were found, and you got up to the task of trying them out, seeing if everything was polished to be useful for potential Asterisk Bearers. You seem to have an affinity to one known as the Engineer Asterisk, which you end up being its Bearer.

Like the other Branwen, you ensure that the high houses doesn't do anything stupid with the influence of House Balestra-Geneolgia, however it's your technological prowess that put you on the map. Your studies of the Celestial Altair's creations help in revolutionizing Luxendarc's technology to a new level, while ensuring that these creations were environmentally friendly, knowing what resulted in the Celestial Realm's state of affairs.

Eloise Balestra

No one could guess that your fathers adopted you when you were three- you have enough resemblance to Janne's parents as it is, but your personality is, well, just like Meria, you're another chip off the old block. Yet you take pride of your origins as a girl from the New Grandship Republic, and like the corsairs before you, you've had a tattoo made when old enough celebrating your identity. Yet you also take pride of being part of the reborn Balestra family, recreating your father Denys' markings on his mechanical arm for your tattoo. In tribute to your father Janne, you try to mimic an old hairstyle of his... as thick as your hair is, you still can't get it as wild as good ol' dad. You like to play hairstylist on your spare time, as well.

You inherit the Fencer Asterisk, while dabbling in both Spell Fencer and Swordmaster for extra help. You end up, like your cousin Rubina, becoming a member of the Crystalguard as well as the Three Cavaliers. You also currently possess what was once known as Vendetta- you rebaptized it Redeemer, a fitting new name under your hand. You also technically own Boots, a cat that came into the family before you joined, but who only likes you, and you alone.

Falk Balestra

You fell short of inheriting the Fencer Asterisk, but at the very least you're capable of using it as a Sub-Asterisk! The main reason why you had problems with Fencer is that one day, you've misused one of it's abilities, and your rapier whack your face and left you with a scar over your left eye. Cue your fathers freaking out and Janne forbidding you to use Fencer until you were a bit more responsible. You and your twin Aurel joined the Balestra family a little after Rubina's first birthday, taken from Eisenburg at the age of four. Your parents died when leftover toxic mist mixed with something that resulted in a nasty explosion in your small village.

As you grew older, you mellowed out personality-wise and decided that perhaps being part of the Crystalguard as a knight just wasn't ideal for you. Instead, you aimed to become a swordplay teacher to the cadets hoping to be knights of the Crystalguard, guiding them to responsible use of their chosen weapons- something you had to learn when you received your scar. With a smile and a kind but aggressive attitude towards teaching, you've not only met your goal, but became the go-to person to teach Janne's famous fencing skills.

Aurel Balestra

Taking an Asterisk who's former Bearer was, well... You received Salvemaker from Eternia thanks to your intense studies in chemistry and alchemy, and sworn to not become another Qada. ...Which is easier done than said in your case, seeing that you were raised by kind hearted people who adopted you after you lost your parents and hometown. Besides being an Asterisk Bearer, you're also a well-known fashionista and you let your older sister Eloise style your hair. Personality-wise, you're quite similar to your uncle Yew, and it's his talk about his studies in Al-Khampis that made you want to be who you are nowadays.

Your work in the alchemic fields helped making new medical discoveries that would've been impossible without the help of Salvemaker. Qada's famous poison, you not only managed to find how he managed to make it, but what would be the perfect antidote to it, and how to prevent its misuse from happening again. This, among other findings, made you join Eternia's Council of Six per your uncle Yew's suggestion, which suited you perfectly, as you would take the position once held by the former wielder of the Spiritmaster Asterisk.

Bastet Balestra

Bast, despite being named after a goddess of cats, you grew fond of foxes. At first glance, you look like your father, but there's much more of your mother with a second glance that you're a good blend of your parents. Personality-wise you're quite similar to Edea Lee, except without the absurd sweet tooth, crazy appetite, black and white insanity, and aggressive matchmaking. You were pretty little when you received the scar on your face, but you don't remember how you got it and who did it to you- your grampy Nikolai simply said it was from some animal, but it was never clarified. You were born exactly between your cousins Rubina and Basil, who are three years apart.

You also became a Six-Stars graduate of Al-Khampis, thanks to your studies in both fabric fibers and magical manipulations of medicine. You are also the current Bearer of the Arcanist Asterisk, however you only use it in dire need, having been trained in your parents' Asterisks themselves. And although you're a fox person, you're forbidden from touching the Yokai Asterisk for now, until your uncle Yew feels comfortable with you using it. Your main goal, however, is to start your own clothing lines that would benefit the poor somehow, either by being part of your team or via funding supported by the brand.

Oskar Balestra

You resemble your father quite a lot, and inherited your Balestra grandmother's freckles, but one look at your eyes and anyone can tell you're Minette's kid. At first glance, you didn't seem remarkable among your siblings. You and your twin sister Astrid were born three years after Bastet, but among the five of you, you seemed the most plain. That is, until all of you were able to distance yourself from each other a bit that your personality- that you're a total goofball with a nack of improving utilities. Weaving looms? You managed to design one perfectly for rugs. The kitchen stove? You've redesigned it for new types of fueling. You turned the saw into a musical instrument, even! Not that you couldn't invent things- in fact, you are Luxendarc's creator of the scratching post.

You only have Catmaster and Fencer as Sub-Asterisks, but that's because you preferred refining utilities over combat. You often visited Sagitta to understand their technology and how to peacefully apply it to the current standard of the rest of Luxendarc. While not a Six Stars student like your older sister, you did place your mark for your re-inventions in Al-Khampis, and your studies on applying your discoveries became part of many a curriculum, and not just in Al-Khampis!

Astrid Balestra

Your father once joked to your mother that your calico looks came from her- and indeed, part of your hair is your father's color and the other part is your mother's. You also have your mother's eyes while, like your twin Oskar, you have your grandmother's freckles. You were born without your left leg, but prosthetic technology helped you in being able to walk- and your false leg is pretty resourceful as a bludgeoning weapon. It wasn't a surprised when you ended up being the new Catmancer, or that you grew fond of your trademark color- the purple of a Five-Stars Al-Khampis student.

You've decided to join the Crystalguard, since your father was a member, and one day replaced him as a member of the Three Cavaliers. Soon, and not surprising in the least, you became THE face of the Crystalguard, which helped you when the role of the Three Cavaliers' leader was given to you not long after. You continued on your parents' work in the reformation of the Crystalguard and the Orthodoxy, including creating the Order of the Metal Limb, a honor given to people that helped society grow despite their disabilities, named after the fact that you yourself have a prosthetic leg.

Remus Balestra

The third chip off the old block, and the eldest of the mirror twins. Romulus and you are a year and a half younger than the other twins (much to your parents' distress), and both of you are redheads with heterochromia of blue and green- however, it's the placement of the colors that identifies you: green on the right, blue on the left. There was no surprise when you inherited the Fencer Asterisk, or that you joined the Crystalguard. Like father, like son, after all.

What made people caught off guard was that you weren't interested in becoming part of the Three Cavaliers. No, instead, you suggested creating a new unit in the Crystalguard that you could help develop, the Inner Guard- a unit specifically build to ensure the mistakes of the old Orthodoxy and the Crystalguard never happened again, being aware of the crimes that plagued Eternia for generations, and how they affected your parents. And once you were old enough, you were given the position of leader of the Inner Guard, who's only bosses are the Three Cavaliers and the Pope. You also playfully doubled as a model for your sister Bastet's clothing lines, wearing them during down time.

Romulus Balestra

While you are the mirror twin of Remus, you are much more like your grandfather Jerome in personality. Your eyes are green on the left and blue on the right, and the small scar on your cheek was from training with your father in survival. You also had the potential to inherit Fencer, but you left it in the hands of your brother Remus, not interested in the least in anything involving Asterisks, the Crystalguard, or anything related to them as a whole. You were much more interested in the history of Eternia and the fallout that resulted by the Great Plague, as well as how it changed all of Luxendarc.

You've decided to undertake perhaps a rather unusual challenge- rebuilding the lands destroyed by the Great Plague. Your first target was the village that turned into Gravemark, finding land not far from it suitable for rebuilding. With the information provided by Braev and Mahzer Lee, you also kept the culture of the area alive as well. This started the ball rolling as the Duchy, with the help of the Orthodoxy, decided to follow along and rebuild other villages and towns, revitalizing Eternia's population. You end up mayor of the new village you've put sweat, blood and tears into, a fitting conclusion for you.

...Two guys, four family possibilities, fifteen kids, who knows how many AUs. Yeah, this is me in a nutshell.

#Bravely Second #bravely second spoilers #sorakh's design methods 101 #designing using doll makers #do you know how long it took me to list all 15 children?!#It didn't helped that I had to search through a massive AIM log for information!

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